This Boy
by anabundanceofbowties
Summary: Ringo thinks he just might have met 'the one'. And guess what? So does she! The problem? It isn't him she has in mind.


_**A/U: So here is my very first attempt at a Beatles story. I'm not sure where I'm going with this story or if I even like it but I decided to post it and see what happens :P. Plus, I thought fanfiction was really lacking Ringo/OC stories. xD; So, without further a do, may I present...CHAPTER 1 OF 'This Boy'! :D**_

**I've Just Seen A Face**

"Oi, who's that bird Paul's talking to?"

John Lennon turned in the booth, following Ringo's gaze before turning back to his plate and shrugging, disinterested. Apparently he found his grilled sandwich more amusing than the redheaded woman whom their bassist was hitting it off with.  
"I dun't know." John mumbled through his mouthful of macaroni. "Maybe it's his secret lover. Ya never know with Macca."  
Ringo bit his lip, eyeing him for a moment before returning his gaze to Paul and the mystery woman. Whatever he was carrying on about had her grinning ear to ear. Pushing his ravioli around his dish absently, the drummer rested his chin in the palm of his hand. She was familiar, that was for sure. She was wearing the same royal blue, cotton schoolgirl-style dress that the rest of the girls had been wearing on set, so she must've been part of the movie. But if that was the case, why hadn't he seen her around the set?

"Quite a looker, iin't she?" George mused quietly from behind his empty plate, eyeing the two with a raised eyebrow. Ringo couldn't help but mentally agree. Her thick, flaming tresses were tied back in a high ponytail and the dress hugged her curves slightly. From where he was sitting, her eyes were invisible under her bangs but the drummer was certain that he had caught a glimpse of blue.  
"Well Paul certainly ain't talkin' her up 'cause of her sparkling personality." John smirked, twirling his fork in his fingers. "He's a sucker for a redhead."  
The topic came to a closing after George began gushing over some guitar riff he had come up with last night but that didn't stop Ringo from staring, trying to read their lips.  
She wasn't saying much; smiling and laughing, adding the occasional nod when Paul probably asked her a question. At one point, he was certain that she had said 'Dublin' but he, of course, wasn't a professional lip reader.

"You gonna finish that, Rings?"  
It was George's thick accented voice that brought the eldest Beatle back to his own table.  
"What?"  
George's eyebrow rose slightly and pointed a finger at the half-eaten order of ravioli which was most likely cold by now.  
"Your food, can I have it?" He said it slower this time and Ringo quickly slid the pasta across the tabletop to the eager guitarist. If George hadn't taken it, it would have most likely ended up in a trash bin somewhere. "Have it." He mumbled, ignoring the reddening of his cheeks and John's suspicious smirk and quickly returning his attention towards the front counter where Paul and the girl had been. A surge of panic shot through the drummer when, to his displeasure, realized that they were gone.  
"Where'd Paul go?"

Hadn't they been there just a moment ago? Yes, he was certain they had. He wasn't delusional.  
"You just missed it, Rings. He jumped into a phone booth and put on a red cape." John teased with his usual smirk plastered across his face. "How should _I_ know? I'm not the lads wet-nurse" Laughing at his own joke, the rhythmic guitarist swatted Ringo playfully on the back. The drummer glared at him but a hint of a smile played at his lips.

"Ahaha, it's a laugh-a-line with Lennon." He chimed in a girlish voice before eyeing his wristwatch nervously. _12:51_. Hadn't Eppy told them to be back on set by half past? He hadn't exactly been paying attention to the older man's lecture. They had all been too busy filling their pockets with pastries from the refreshment table.  
"Anyone know what time Eppy had told us t'be back?" George asked unsurely, obviously pondering the same thing that Ringo was.

It was after an exchange of shrugs and mumbled 'I don't knows' that the three remaining Beatles had decided to pay the bill and make an attempt to locate Paul all while avoiding mobs of screaming girls. And apparently task number two wasn't as hard to accomplish as they had predicted.  
When they had exited the restaurant, not only did they find Mr. McCartney himself puffing on a cigarette beside their waiting car, but also (much to Ringo's excitement) the redheaded schoolgirl. The drummer eyed her attentively from behind George. She was still smiling politely like she had been inside the diner.  
"Oh, _Paulie_ you had us all worried sick." John cried jokingly, throwing his arm around the bassist and pulling him close. "And wandering off with pretty girls?" He added, tossing the redhead a wink over Paul's head, causing her to blush slightly.  
"Shove off, Lennon." He chuckled lightly, ducking quickly out of John's grip and taking a puff of his smoke. "You're just jealous that I'm able to actually _talk_ to girls."

John rolled his eyes playfully, tugging the backdoor of their car open before eyeing the bassist's companion with an impish glint.  
"And who's this lovely bird?"  
Ringo's ears perked up almost instantly. He finally got to put a name to the beautiful face. Paul glanced at her, twisting the cigarette in between his lips. He was proud of his catch.  
"This is Bonnie."  
She smiled shyly, lowering her cigarette. Her eyes swept over the three of them, hovering on Ringo for a moment before averting her eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly.  
"Hello." She nodded in a thick Irish accent. She met the drummer's eyes once more through her bangs and smiled delicately. To him, she resembled a porcelain doll.

"We're going t'give her a ride back to the set." Paul continued, throwing his cigarette onto the pavement and rubbing it out with the heel of his shoe. "None of you mind, right?"  
Bonnie looked up hopefully. The sky had been blocked out by thick, ugly, black clouds all day and a chilling wind bit at noses and cheeks. It definitely wasn't walking weather, especially for those without coats.  
"Not at all!" Ringo jumped in. He gave the redhead a grin which she gladly returned after realizing that she didn't have to walk the twelve blocks in chilly weather back to train station where they were shooting.  
George and John didn't seem to have a problem with it either and they were quickly ushered into the back of the car by a rather impatient and annoyed chauffer.

It was with pushing, elbowing and sheer luck that Ringo managed to snag the seat in between Bonnie and Paul, much to his pleasures. Her eyes (the drummer decided that they were, indeed, a cloudless summer day blue) were glued to the window, even though there wasn't much to see. She probably didn't know where else to set them.  
Clearing his throat, he decided to start a conversation despite the 'I-dibbed-her' look Paul was sending him out of his perpetual vision.  
"So Bonnie…" The drummer began and the redhead turned in her seat to face him. He paused to admire her for a few seconds and to think of something to say before continuing. "Err…where are you originally from?" Her accent definitely wasn't from Liverpool.  
"Dublin, Ireland." Bonnie replied with the same, delicate smile and a bob of her head. So Ringo wasn't such a bad lip reader after all!

"What brings you t'England if ya don't mind me askin'?"  
Bonnie's face lit up. After listening to Paul go on about himself for the past hour, she must've thrilled to be asked about herself.  
"Oh, not at all!" She giggled, causing the drummer's smile to grow even wider. "I wanta be a photographer." The redhead looked at him for a moment. "And with all the talent and famous musicians runnin' around here, I thought England would be a great place to start out." She seemed embarrassed at first; her face turning a lovely shade of pink and Ringo quickly put on an impressed expression, which he honestly was.  
"I bet you're really good." He mused, earning a jab in the ribcage from Paul.  
"Pushover."  
Bonnie bit her lip, trying to stop her smile from becoming _too_ large. "Thanks…?"  
"Ringo." The eldest of the Fab Four quickly interjected, holding his hand out eagerly for her to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you." She nodded with the same small smile as she slid her dainty, porcelain hand into his and pumped it up and down. Ringo felt a wave of electricity rush down his spine when their hands met. It had startled him at first but couldn't help but feel disappointed when she released. He had never felt anything like that with other girls.  
"So what made you wanna act?" George asked suddenly from the seat opposing them. Bonnie was hesitant for a moment before shrugging a shoulder.  
"I guess I just wanted a kick." She mumbled, meeting the guitarists' eyes for a moment before looking down at her feet. An awkward silence loomed over the five of them. Ringo glanced over at her with his azure eyes, starting at her soft, delicate facial features and descending from there until finally stopping at her hand, resting on the empty seat between them. He found himself tempted to reach out and hold it but quickly shook the feeling.

She was just another bird with a pretty face and nothing more. And Paul had called dibs on her anyways. After they were finished shooting the movie he wouldn't even ever see her again.  
"So I guess this is our stop." John finally smirked, motioning out his window at the train station where they had been shooting at for the last few days. "Time for an 'I'm very disappointed in you' lecture from Eppy."

The four moaned almost in unison before grudgingly clambering out of the vehicle, Bonnie not too far behind.  
"I appreciate the ride." The redhead beamed, following the band into the building. Paul smirked.  
"How about I throw in a tour of our great country and an outing to a nearby club?" The bassist winked and that charming smile he gave to most fan girls. For some reason, it almost made Ringo upset.  
"I have a boyfriend." Bonnie replied coolly before giving him that smooth smile. "But thanks for the offer."

And with that, she disappeared as she stalked quickly into the building, Paul staring after. He definitely wasn't used to rejection, he _was_ a Beatle.  
"You're losing your touch, lad." John sniggered, thumping the bassist on the shoulder. The younger Beatle merely glared in response and Ringo couldn't help but grin inwardly.  
Other girls were never quite like this particular bird.

_**Reviews and all that other stuff is much loved and appreciated!  
Thank-you for reading! :D  
-semicharmed**_


End file.
